A reflection on me and my life.
Half a thought, not whole or complete,
only part of it all incased in a cloud.
He is a whole, she too is full and them and the others as well.
Yet I, here half out of my bed, entirely not awake am only just a half.
A half sister, half daughter, half person, half happy.
Part of the morning light seeps into my room, now half clean,
soon to be fully dirty, a mess, a walk in closet entirely.
Half dressed I get up and stumble to the small somewhat half bathroom,
peering into the mirror I see me, only half of me,
and for the first time I see it and know.
I am there...
partially, totally separate, fully empty with half a chance.
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